Pamela ushered Graham inside quickly. God, it was so difficult to believe it was him, but she just knew. The bunny girl sat down on the couch, pale blonde hair falling over her shoulders as her ears drooped down to cover her face partially. The man wearing her skin came down the hall, freezing in the doorway, eyes wide as he stared at her. She blushed, looking down and away.
"Tom, we know it's you, and I know who that is. Get the fuck out of my house. Now," Pamela declared, glaring fiercely at him. He flinched almost visibly, taking a moment to gather himself and meet her burning gaze. "I'll never forgive you for what you did to my husband."
"Well, if you make me leave now, you'll never know how to turn her back," Tom said, barely able to believe how steady his voice was. Inside, he was trembling, terrified. This had gone so horribly wrong. "In fact, I don't think you'll care in a minute," he said slowly, unsure of whether this would work even though he had so much evidence that it would. "I wish you loved me."
The look in Pamela's eyes changed, and of all the warring emotions within her, the love that hadn't been there five seconds ago won. She closed the distance between herself and Tom faster than she would have thought possible, into his waiting arms. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the bunny girl on her couch stare at them with her mouth hanging open, and she felt a small twinge of shame for ever having loved that freak. The bunny girl stood up, speaking in a voice clearer and more commanding than any of them would have thought possible. "What the fuck did you just do?" she began, ears rising. "Why couldn't you accept that you'd lost her? I had nothing to do with it. Hell, I didn't even know you when I met her! But no... you had to work whatever horrible magic you had and turn me into... into this!" she screamed, the tears in her eyes finally spilling forth, and dropped back onto the couch to bawl her eyes out.
Tom saw Pamela open her mouth for a retort and stopped her, wondering what to do with the hysterical woman on his couch. He was rock-hard just looking at her, that vision of feminine perfection he'd drawn so many times and would probably continue to draw along with the many other characters in his mind. There's no easy way to settle this, he thought with an audible sigh.
